


Mind over matter

by doitsuki



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Gen, Kinship, M/M, Telepathy, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 15:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11808738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doitsuki/pseuds/doitsuki
Summary: Kil'jaeden adores Velen, and just can't figure out how to express it.





	Mind over matter

**Author's Note:**

> a small scene out of an unwritten story

_‘What is wrong with me?’_

Kil’jaeden asks himself this every day, his existence hinging on the presence of a single being. Velen is the Prophet of their people with eternal patience and boundless compassion. Wisdom and kindness glitter in his eyes, while upon his brow sits the blessing of the Light.

And Kil’jaeden wants to fuck him.

No, perhaps that is too harsh a word. Kil’jaeden dreams now, sitting at his desk with documents he doesn’t care for in a pile beside him. Velen is ever so delicate – _‘I will have to be gentle.’_ So too is he naïve, in a pure and almost juvenile manner. _‘I must take time.’_ Though gifted with future sight, he is blind to his best friend’s adoration of him. _‘Should I ask…?’_ Kil’jaeden shakes his head, tendrils swaying beneath his chin. _‘Ahhhh… no. He could misunderstand, and Light knows my eloquence vanishes before him.’_ He rubs at his temples with two fingers, squeezing his golden eyes shut. _‘What a conundrum… All these years and I still haven’t been able to figure this out. A simple approach would probably be best… but there is too much room for error. This must be perfect.’_ If Velen denies him, Kil’jaeden hates to admit that he is lost on what to do next. He sinks deeper into honeyed words and crafted compliments, searching for the one spark that will guarantee his success.

He has been searching for millenia.

There’s a knock at the door, and Kil’jaeden would have ignored it had he not recognized the sound. Soft, questioning, unobtrusive.

“Come in.” His voice wavers.

Velen gently pushes open the door and his hooves are silent against the plush carpeted floor. “Brother?”

Kil’jaeden’s heart seems to expand in his chest, his muscles aching to launch himself at Velen and sweep him into a tight embrace. The Prophet’s elegant brows are furrowed ever so slightly, signaling a discontent Kil’jaeden will iron out even if it takes his life.

“What ails you?” Kil’jaeden says stiffly, trying to control the tone of his voice and not betray his wild emotions. But Velen is in his head, they are connected as if by blood and thread, and probing fingers of curious thought caress him. His eyelids descend halfway, veiling the bright light of his irises. “Oh…” _‘Do not worry about me.’_

_ ‘Is… is this not a good time?’ _

Kil’jaeden would have kicked himself internally had Velen not been so closely watching him.

_‘I always have time for you, brother. Come, sit. What can I do for you?’_

Velen hesitates a little and then decides against further inquiry. _‘Kil’jaeden will tell me when he is ready,’_ he thinks to himself, standing still.

“May I borrow your nail file?” His voice is barely above a whisper.

“For what?” Kil’jaeden isn’t thinking.

“To build a house with – Kil’jaeden, I simply wish to fix this.” Velen laughs and shows his brother a single broken nail, an imperfection on his otherwise perfect hand. Kil’jaeden stands and takes the requested item out of his desk drawer, leaning towards Velen to inspect what seems to be an injury.

“How did you do that?”

Velen shrugs casually, his slight shoulders rolling back. Kil’jaeden guides him to the nearby couch and they sit together.

“You’re always so unaware of your surroundings…” Kil’jaeden chides him gently as he takes Velen’s slim, lilac hand into his own.

“I cannot help it.” Velen looks away, shy. “The future is so much more interesting.”

“Would that I could see it, I’d probably agree.” In even, dutiful motions Kil’jaeden works the nail file until his brother’s nails are all perfect again, every single one. “We should do something together.” He looks into Velen’s eyes, and they’ve drifted back to meet his own over the past few minutes. Velen withdraws his hand, raising it to inspect his nails and then the most beautiful little smile graces his face.

“We do everything together.” He touches Kil’jaeden’s cheek, stroking down to his brother’s jaw with the pads of his fingers. “What more?”

Kil’jaeden closes his eyes and hums in quiet bliss. _‘It’s not enough,’_ he thinks in the deepest corner of his mind. _‘I want everything of you at all times, my beloved guiding light. Oh, Velen…’_

Aware that some deeper processes are going on in Kil’jaeden’s mind, Velen simply feels the love flood their connection and is humbled by its purity. What he sees as purity, Kil’jaeden feels as singleminded obsession. But it is there, and they make of it what they will.


End file.
